The night hung heavy over the broken road.
A thin mist crept across the fields, swallowing the crumbled watchtowers and abandoned farms in ghostly silence.
The Pathbreakers moved cautiously.
Weapons ready.
Senses sharp.
Kaelen led at the front, Sovereignblade Astryn hidden under his travel cloak, but his every step was a warning —
an unspoken promise of violence.
[System Notification]
[Danger Detected: Hostile Forces Approaching.]
[Estimated Hostile Power: Tier C+ - B-.]
Kaelen's eyes narrowed.
They were here.
The Ambush
The attack came swift and brutal.
Crossbow bolts hissed from the darkness.
Spikes of shadow magic lanced toward the group.
A pack of mercenaries and assassins burst from the mist, blades flashing under the broken moonlight.
But the Pathbreakers were ready.
Eren roared and charged, axe cleaving through the first attacker like thunder breaking a tree.
Mira loosed three arrows in one smooth motion, dropping two assassins mid-sprint.
Selina's healing lights flared, shielding Lyra as the scout hurled cutting winds into the mist.
Kaelen didn't speak.
He moved.
A blur of silver and fury.
Kaelen's Strike
The first assassin lunged at him — fast, skilled, deadly.
Kaelen sidestepped casually and slashed.
Sovereignblade Astryn whispered through the air.
The assassin fell without a sound, blood spraying across the dirt.
Another came at him, weaving complex magic sigils mid-air.
Kaelen lifted Astryn high — and for the first time,
the blade pulsed.
Silver chains of light erupted from it, coiling around the spell and crushing it into dust.
[System Notification]
[Hidden Ability Activated: Sovereign Shackles.]
[Effect: Bind and suppress enemy mana formations within 10 meters.]
The mage gasped — too slow — and Kaelen was already there.
One slash.
One life ended.
The Pathbreakers Hold the Line
The attackers hesitated.
The plan had been simple:
Ambush the Pathbreakers.
Kill the leader.
Break the dream before it could take root.
But Kaelen was no ordinary leader.
And the Pathbreakers were no ordinary guild.
They fought like wolves — fast, ruthless, coordinated.
Every time one fell back, another covered them.
Every attack was answered threefold.
And Kaelen —
he was a storm.
Every movement was death.
Every breath carried the weight of inevitable domination.
The Battle Ends
Minutes later, it was over.
The ground was littered with broken bodies and blood-soaked weapons.
The mist slowly cleared, revealing the carnage.
Kaelen stood at the center, Sovereignblade Astryn humming faintly.
The cracked-crown sigil on his chest burned brighter than ever.
Behind him, the Pathbreakers gathered — bruised, bleeding, alive.
Selina rushed from fighter to fighter, healing where she could.
Eren leaned on his axe, breathing heavily but grinning fiercely.
"Not bad for a bunch of rebels," he muttered.
Kaelen allowed himself a grim smile.
"We're not rebels," he said.
He looked toward the east, where the Weeping Expanse waited beyond the horizon.
"We're founders."
Reflection
As the Pathbreakers set a tight perimeter around the battleground, Kaelen found a moment of silence.
He knelt beside one of the fallen mercenaries —
a man barely older than himself, face twisted in death.
He didn't hate them.
They were pawns.
Tools of a world desperate to stay chained.
But Kaelen would not falter.
Not for pity.
Not for fear.
Not for anything.
He whispered under his breath:
"You were sent to kill a dream."
He rose, Sovereignblade gleaming.
"But dreams made in blood cannot be broken."
And under the wounded stars, the Pathbreakers marched forward once more.
Toward the Weeping Expanse.
Toward the future.
Toward a throne yet unseen.